THE ^R"^ 

H THE HOUH 



flflD OTHHH POEMS 




SCHUVLiER V. PHlIililPS 



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THE POET'S MEMORIES 

and 

POEMS OF INSPIRATION 

by 

SCHUYLER V. PHILLIPS 

Psychic Reader, Lecturer, and Author 

Author of 

"THE WHITE CHIEF" 

"THE ACTION OF THE SPIRIT" 

"LESSONS IN PSYCHOMETRY" 

POETIC SELECTIONS," ETC., ETC. 



— First Edition-^ 

S. V. Phillips, Author and Publisiiek 

White Plains, N. Y. 

1920 






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CI A^ 9 J 218 



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Contents 

Introductory 

The Man of the Hour 

Spring 

A Tribute to Theodore Roosevelt 

Friendship 

The Span of Life 

The Divinity of Man 

"God's Guard" 

The Christian Memorial 

Purpose 

The Message-Bearer 

Lines to an Aged Parent 

Surrounded 

The Change 

The Splendid Goal 



(Copyright 1920 by S. V. Phillips) 

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Introductory 

The evidences of the thinning of the veil 
between the seen and the unseen are multi- 
plying almost hour 'by hour. So swiftly are 
we swinging into the New Age of the Spirit 
that multitudes, who have hitherto been con- 
tent to plod along the homely roads of the 
common-place, have suddenly felt themselves 
touched by the invisible hand of inspiration 
and have irresistibly, as it were, expressed 
themselves in a new and infinitely sweet form 
of utterance. 

This has taken the forms of poetry, of art, 
of music, of literature and of revelation. 
Much that has been v/ritten is of surpassing 
richness and value. A new world-library has 
been written. In no department has this been 
more clearly demonstrated than in poetry. 

The present volume is an exemplification 
of the power of the spirit to overshadow. In 
the within verses, the author has permitted 
the divine Muses to strike upon his soul- 
strings some rare symphonies. I am glad that 
he is giving them to us in the printed form. 
His readers (may they be many) will share 
with him, I am sure, the indescribable sweet- 
ness and thrill of heavenly communion. 

ELEANOR AUGUSTA MONROE HAND. 



The Man of the Hour. 

The man of the hour has fleeting fame, 

The tide of life moves on, 

And living issues of noble things, 

Heroic souls, illustrious men 

Surge forward with the tide, and then, 

Submerged by the oncoming current strong, 

Are lost to view by the passing throng. 

And others arise to the crest of the wave. 
Courageous, undaunted, triumphant, brave, 
Bearing the banner they fought to save: 
Yet ever anon the tide rolls on. 
New people, new hopes, new aims appear, 
But ever a champion rises to view, 
ToweriDg above the multitude, 
Cleaving the desert solitude. 
With paen of vict'ry and acclaim. 
Throughout the world they speak his name. 
His deeds record in the book of fame. 

By time and change he is displaced. 
Nor stays the progress of the race. 
His name is dim in memory. 
While others rise to victory. 

Seek not to claim abiding place 
On pinnacles of mortal fame. 
For braver hearts have given o'er 
And yielded still to braver men. 

'Tis of the thought and not the man, 
'Tis of the spirit that inspires 
To lofty deeds, to higher aims. 
And evermore the tide rolls on. 
Resistless, forceful, steady, strong. 

Humanity surges toward the goal. 
The heaven-born region of the soul. 



The man of the hour has fleeting fame, 
He stands where thousands have stood, 
But soon he must pass like a dying flame. 
All that is left is an honored name, 
But the deed he did and the word he spake 
Will live in the current of magic power. 
That gathers its forces as onward it goes 
Toward the realm of the victors, 
Where truth stands supreme, 
Exultant, triumphant, with glory enshrouded. 
Humanity rises to catch the sweet dawning 
Of days where the flotsam and jetsam are 

hidden 
And the man of the hour is the man of the ages 
Lifted, exalted, heroic, eternal. 



Spring 



The days of Spring have dawned again. 

While o'er the crags and rocky ways, 

The rivulets come tumbling down, 

And very torrents hurl along, 

Singing and laughing, thund'ring and clashing, — 

Spring. 

The warmer rays are streaming down, 

The blades of grass in verdure drest. 

The crocus and the mignonette, 

Like earth-bound wand'rers burst their bonds, 

The blade appears in vernal splendor, — 

Spring. 

The soft'ning clod, the mellow soil, 
The Southland zephyrs gently playing 
New life in dead-appearing hedges. 
The kindly showers caressing lightly, 
The thunder-peal, the forceful down pour — 
Spring. 

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New life, new hope, new courage comes 

Apace, All nature thrills with joy. 

Forgotten are the bitter days, 

The wint'ry blast, the chilling wind, — 

Ah, welcome to the cheering sight, — 

Spring! 



A Tribute to Theodore Roosevelt. 

Foursquare he stood. 

Among immortals is his name enshrined. 

Intrepid patriot, gracious, strong and true, 

He held aloft the standard of mankind 

'Mid scenes of turmoil — days of noisome strife. 

He fought for right and braved the assassin's 

hand, 
Nor yielded when the conflict fiercely ragfed. 
He faced the foemen and denounced the wrong. 
On history's page the name of Roosevelt 

stands 
In bold relief among heroic souls. 
Inspiring leader, matchless to the last, 
He nailed the Flag of Freedom to the mast! 
Oh, mighty man of valor, lead us still, 
Enthuse our hearts with love of truth and 

right, 
At length the Ship of State will anchor fast. 
Justice and Truth prevail o'er hate and strife. 



Friendship 
Oh! for the friendship, lofty, sincere, 
The clasp of a hand. 
And sympathy's smile, 
Untouched by the spirit. 

Of doubt and fear, 
Lifted from sordid passion. 

And strife, 
Walking the path of 

The higher life. 
Precious, exalted, triumphant, divine, 
The friendship of yours and the 

Friendship of mine. 

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The beautiful friendship, perfect, supreme. 
That reaches the border, 
That travels beyond. 
And bridges the chasm. 

That lies between. 

A love that is graceful, 

A heart that is kind, 

A kinship of spirit, 

A beauty of mind, 

Loyal, beneficent, generous, true, 
A blessing to me and a blessing 
To you. 

A radiant friendship, spontaneous, sweet, 

That breathes inspiration, 

And kindles anew 

The joys of companionship. 

Rare and complete. 

A glow of the soul and a 

Ray of delight, 
Effulgent with glory. 
Redundant with might; 
'Tis caught by the angels 

And wafted above, 
And basks in the sunlight. 

Of Infinite Love, 



The Span of Life. 

The day has dawned, effulgent, fair, 

'Tis full of hope and life. 

For opportunity is there. 

And love and joy are rife. 

I feel the urge to do and dare, 

I'm ready for the toil, 

I'll reach the top-most pedestal, 

And triumph over all. 

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'Tis mid-day and the span of life 

Upon this mortal plane, 

Is half-consumed and disappeared, 

'Twill ne'er return again. 

The first prepared me for the last. 

The best is yet to come, 

With joy I'll fill each treasured hour. 

The triumph has begun. 

At eventide, I stand and gaze 

Upon the ending trail. 

And foster fondest memories, 

Wherein I did not fail 

To cope with problems deep and vast, 

And lead the helping hand. 

Knowing that when my day is past, 

I'll reach the Better Land, 

And meet the ones I loved and lost, 

Begin) the endless day. 

And travel on the Shining Road, 

And never miss the way. 



The Divinity of Man 

When the Architect of earth 
Breathed the power of mortal birth. 
Unto man a birthright given 
When the strong foundations moved, 
And the impulse was approved. 
From the highest Court of Heaven^ 
Then creation was complete 
Glory crowned the Mercy Seat 
And the mandate from above 
Is the symbol of God's love. 

Sons of heaven in mortal frame 

All our love and honor claim, 

And the service we afford 

Is the incense of the Lord. 

Not imaginary gods 

Weild the self-chastising rods, 

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For we serve the Lord the best 
When our fellow-man is blest, — 
By our action and our thought, 
'Tis the work the Spirit wrought. 

But we cannot seek to claim 
Heavenly joy or earthly fame. 
If we limit our reward 
By the service we afford. 
Do we heed the Golden Rule 
Counting ev'ry soul a jewel? 
We are storing heavenly bliss 
For a better world than this. 

How can I adore the Lord 
When I scorn the kindly word? 
When I help a soul to rise 
I am nearer Paradise. 

So I smile upon mankind 
And the pearls of beauty find, 
'Neath the dross a gem divine 
In the firmament may shine. 

Thus by happiness is found 
In humanity around, 
Manifest in mortal frame, 
All the honor of His name. 
'Tis the highest heavenly plan 
The divinity of man. 



''God's Guard." 

I met a priest upon my path, 
As, home-ward bound, I went along, 
A noble man, — a man of God, 
A man of prayer, a man of song. 

"Schoolmaster," quoth the worthy friar, 
"You should come join my parish now, 
Your work is good, your word is fair, 
(lod waits your spirit to endow." 

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* Ay, ay, my friend," I then replied, 
" 'Tis of your vows you ever prate, 
While I plod on, my way marked out. 
And teach the youthful to be great." 

"I cannot heed much you orate. 
I cannot think an humble man 
Can mark the way to Heaven's Gate, 
Or help to mould God's greater plan." 

"Now, learned sire," the preacher said, 
"I love to speak to yonder youth. 
To sing the songs, to cheer them on. 
But ever do I love the truth. 

"You say the friar assumes God's rights. 
Not so, my friend, not so," he cried. 
"The law is made, the mandate signed, 
And God has called us to His side. 

"What use is law if not enforced? 
The priest is God's policeman sent 
To guard the highway of the saints. 
Arrest the erring, cheer the faint." 

"Your words are good," I answered thus, 
"I fain would clasp your hand in love: 
For likewise I may do my part 
And point the youth to realms above. 

"Methinks it is a giant task, 
And one so fraught with great design, 
To bend the twig to grow aright, 
For as it grows, the tree's inclined. 

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"So rest you well, my generous friend. 
You have a mission to fulfill, 
I, too from God commission have, 
To teach the wisdom of His will." 

" 'Tis well," the friar replied as joy 
And eager light beamed from his eye, 
"We are engaged in noble plans 
To point the way to mansions high. 

"And brother-mine the way to heaven. 
By faith and works in truth is found, 
God grant that we our work may do, 
That faith and progress may abound. 

"And when we reach the portal there, 

The greeting will be full of cheer, 

For we have helped to keep the path 

Of heaven-bound wanderers straight and clear. 



The Christian Memorial 

The Lenten season comes and brings 

The thought of self-denial. 

We honor thus the agony, 

And sacrificial pain, 

Endured by Christ the Saviour, 

While in this mortal plane. 

We tread with Him the weary way, 
And shun temptation's power: 
The path is strewn with sorrow, 
But grief is not in vain, 
He leads the way to Victory, _ 

We follow in his train. 

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We mourn our sins and strive to rise 
With Him triumphant, to the skies, 
Where faith is lost in perfect sight, 
And weakness turns to Godly might. 
Victorious over sin we rise, 
To join the Christ in Paradise. 

The glittering wealth of wordly power. 

We do not seek to gain, 

But walk in dark Gethsemane, 

And bow our head beneath the Tree 

On which the Master groaned and cried, 

"Father, forgive them" ere He died. 

Oh, Brotherhood of Saints above, 
Lift us and fill us with the love 
The Master shows, nor let despair 
Enshroud our drooping spirits here! 
So to be blessed, we tread the way, 
The Master trod, this Lenten Day. 



Purpose 



My slogan this, one thing to do, 
To live my best, to do my part 
The way revealed for me to go, 
I'll travel on with joyous heart. 

Despite obstructions thrust my way 
By envious, evil, baser minds, 
I go despite delay and doubt 
Or threat'ning foes of many kinds. 

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There is no death for me to fear, 
Disintegrating forces come, 
But I shall stem their hurled darts,, 
And reach, at length, my Heavenly Home. 

I pray that sin may not abide, 
And answer prayer by earnest work. 
Deny myself, spurn lust and hate, 
Nor iiksome deprivation shirk. 

My sins remitted, dropt forgot, 
I grow in God's own perfect plan, 
Denouncing evil, sinners help. 
And strive to uplift fallen man. 

Out yonder in the other sphere, 
I see my kindred spirits wait, 
I travel on serene and glad, 
For they will meet me at the Gate. 

The portal is not far away, 
With courage I shall climb the heights. 
Catching new visions on the way, 
New aspirations, glorious sights. 

I'll sing again the Master's praise. 
For guidance o'er the rugged way. 
Triumphant in the grace of God, 
That keeps my soul from day to day. 



The Message Bearer 

They called her a witch in the olden days, 
They nodded their heads in their worldly 

ways, 
A wisdom was hers which they could not 

define, — 
The gift to foretell and the power to devine, 
Mysterious things. She was scoffed at and 

jeered. 
Yet eagerly sought by the people that sneered. 

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Endowed with rare talents bestowed from 

above, 
The work of her hand is the symbol of love. 

The wizard, uncanny, with genius thrice-blest, 
Unbosoms the storehouse of God in his quest. 
Revealing to wondering millions the way 
To treasures and forces that brighten the day. 

Communion with saints has been stoutly pro- 
claimed. 

But seldom, I trow, is a message obtained. 

And zealots of bigotry limit the right 

To commune with the spirits who dwell out 
of sight. 

Awake, man, the gifts of creation are vast! 

From the time of the Prophets, the first and 
the last, 

A force from without comes to lighten your 
woe 

And friends, now departed, their presence 
would show. 

In the crises of life Grod will whisper to you. 
But the whisper will come from lips that you 
know. 

A vision, to show you the Pathway is given, 
'Twill give you a foothold and lead you to 

Heaven. 
Not only God speaks in the wind and the 

storm — 
He sendeth His angels the day you are bom. 
And ministering spirits attend all the way, 
And give you real messages day after day, 

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Lines to an Aged Parent. 

Thou art dead. Thy earthly journey, 
To the grave has reached at last. 
Hopes and fears are now forgotten. 
For thy pilgrimage is past. 

Well I knew thy self-denial, 
And my sympathy and love 
Reaches out beyond the border, 
To the realms of God above. 

He It is that knows our purpose. 
And the suff'ring of the heart, 
When the cords of life are severed, 
And forever we must part. 

Nay, I will not say forever, 
God will purge our souls of dross. 
And at length we'll be united, 
'Neath the shelter of the Cross. 

With the Master, in His mansions. 
We shall come at last to be. 
Cleansed, made perfect in His likeness, 
Healed of all infirmity. 



Surrounded. 

f enter in the solitude, 
And shut the door and bolt it fast, 
And feel that I am all alone. 
With prayer upon my lips, I bow, 
And wrestle with the chains of sin. 
I pray the Lord to give me strength, 
I crave the power to do and dare. 
And wisdom to o'ercome the foe. 
But in the stillness of the place, 

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A vision comes before my face, 
A voice is speaking in my ear, 
"His angels" have me in their care, 
And spirit-friends assist my feet. 
"A cloud of witnesses" are near, 
I know that I may never fear, — 
The Master guides me, and His care 
Surrounds me as I bow in prayer. 



The Change 

We live to die 

We die to live 

The elements must pass away. 

But in the change 

From mortal things 

To other forms that will not stay 

Within the view 

Of keener eyes. 

We rise to live as we have lived 

To glean the wheat 

Ignore the tares 

And stretch the sinews of the soul 

Along the path 

Of our desires. 

The good survives in other planes. 

And blossoms forth 

In fruitage fair 

When we have changed from here to there. 

So to be strong 

When comes the day 

And like a zephyr we depart, 

Let us be wise, 

Let us be fair, 

Efficiency cannot be lost. 

And we shall wake 

And gird ourselves 

Continue in a perfect way 

To travel on 

And still pursue 

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The consummation of our task. 

But earthly wrongs 

To which we cling 

Can only serve to cloud the way, 

For of the good, 

Secure and true, 

Is formed the power of Love Divine. 



The Splendid Goal 

Oh Living Fire of Love Divine! 
Regenerate and purge my soul 
Oh, Master, lead me hy the hand, 
That I may reach the Splendid Goal. 

For earthly glamour and acclaim 
I toil not, but to follow Thee. 
That I may rise to higher planes, 
And find the place prepared for me. 

Oh Shepherd, help me in the path, — 
Thy righteous way, to ever keep, 
That when my pilgrimage is past, 
I may be numbered with Thy sheep. 

Thou didst reveal the Father's love, 
That mortal man may seek to claim, 
And rise to heights of truth and grace, 
And ever bless Thy matchless name. 

Lord, help me overcome and win 

The crown of everlasting life. 

Help me to triumph over sin, 

And worldly pleasure, pomp or strife. 

To be a citizen of Heaven 
To reach with joy the Splendid Goal, — 
The dross consumed, the gold refined, — 
Be this the vict'ry of my soul. 

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